In the hour and a half it took Dallas to dodge the ridiculous traffic from Berlin to Brandenburg an der Havel, I'd already gone through six of our stash of about thirty expired granola bars, and I'd reread A.R.T.'s report on Agent Lindsey's disappearance twice. Before I'd even begun my investigation, I'd made it pretty clear to Lancaster that I would need to know the details of Lindsey's unauthorized mission, but he'd never provided me with that information. Now, I was left trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. It was only day three and this investigation was already maddening.
The case file was nothing like any A.R.T. Missing Agent File I'd ever seen before. Over the course of my time with the Taskforce, I'd heard of only seven agents either disserting or going missing, and I'd assisted in the investigations to locate five of them. Each time, I'd reviewed the case files and they'd always been jam-packed with more information than anyone could need to know. My A.R.T. division had always covered every single base, whether pertinent or not, just to be completely thorough. But Agent Lindsey's file was different. It was vague and choppy. There were plenty of areas with little to no detail that didn't fit the bill. It stated on the report itself that Lancaster had written it. There was no logical reason for him to leave out so much information – and I still wanted answers about why A.R.T. had waited three fucking months to start a search for a woman who was said to be one of their top five agents.
None of it. Made. Sense.
"Reading that report again?" Dallas asked in a bland knowing voice.
I groaned and rested my head back against the headrest. "Honestly, Dallas, I'm starting to feel like I'm being punked or something. I think a kindergartener could've written a more detailed report. This is infuriating."
I'd decided that once this was all over, I'd go back to London and give Lancaster a heaping piece of my mind. He had a lot of explaining to do, as far as I was concerned.
Dallas cracked an amused grin while he kept his eyes on the road ahead. "You still have that fiery temper, Tali."
"You bet your ass, I do."
His smile widened, but he didn't say anything else. I ended up stuffing the file back into my bag – reading in a moving vehicle was making my eyes hurt anyway – and turning my attention to the man sitting beside me.
I'd finally accepted the idea that all this was real – that he was real – and that I wasn't simply losing my mind, imagining all of this. But it still gave me such a strange feeling deep in the pit of my stomach to hear his voice and say his name. It was mind-blowing to know that he was really there, in the flesh, just feet from me, and I could have a real conversation with him, touch him, actually feel him, kiss him...
I'd spent four years trying and failing to come to terms with the belief that Dallas was dead. There'd really been no such thing as coping for me. I'd been on a downward spiral for four straight years. I was honestly surprised that A.R.T. had kept me on as an agent. I knew why – I was one of their best. But still, I'd turned myself into a tremendous liability for the Taskforce – especially for Matt. I'd put him through hell worrying about my safety and sobriety on countless missions.
Matt had taken over being our team leader after Bristol's death, and A.R.T. had hired three new agents to join our team. Each of them came with their own exceptional record from the F.B.I., having handled the likes of cases you'd expect to see on a Criminal Minds episode, but Matt had had to train each new agent, familiarizing them with A.R.T.'s standards. He'd done an incredible job, despite how tough I knew it was on him with no help from me. He'd just lost three fifths of his original team and all the sudden he had to take on being a team leader and teaching new agents the ropes, all the while dealing with my emotional baggage and bullshit, and my impressive unprecedented inability to hang on to a partner for more than a handful of months. I was still surprised Megan hadn't quit yet.
Megan. Damn, I actually really missed her. She was the best partner I'd had so far. Although we never actually took the time to discuss my situation – I didn't say and she didn't ask – it always seemed like she somehow understood. Something about that look in her eyes whenever she witnessed me jolting up in bed from a nightmare about Washington. It was a knowing look, almost like she'd been in my place once before, herself. I made a mental note to have a long overdue talk with my partner once I returned to the States. If she was going to hang around and put up with me, she deserved to know everything.
"Overthinking again?" Dallas's voice sliced through my daze.
I'd been lounging in the seat with my eyes closed and hadn't paid a bit of attention to our surroundings. We were on a two lane road headed east and I could see a large dark building on a hill a few miles up ahead.
"I was thinking about my team back home," I told him, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. "I've gone through an ass load of partners in recent years, but my current one seems to like me a lot more than the rest did, which I'm actually finding myself thankful for."
Dallas cringed at the mention of my partner liking me and I knew what he was thinking.
"My partner is a girl, Dallas." I giggled at his expression and his grimace washed away.
He blew out an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Thank god. I thought I was going to have to kick somebody's ass."
He'd always been the overprotective type. I loved that about him. At the same time, though, Dallas had always known when to give me the space and freedom to kick ass on my own. He'd never made me feel like I needed to rely on a man. He'd always respected my ability to take care of myself, while still making it known that he had no problem doing it for me, should I want him to.
"I really missed you," I said, feeling a painful lump reach my throat as I spoke.
I'd told myself that I would stop being so emotional about Dallas's return to my life. I was on a high stakes mission with danger lurking around every corner. I couldn't afford to be a crying mess. Yet, here I was, tearing up again just from uttering four words. It made me wonder how long my heart was going to hurt like this. How long would the tear-jerking feeling last? Things as simple as watching him drive or seeing that smile I never could forget made me want to retreat into his arms and bawl into his shirt again over how happy I was to have him back. How long would I be like this?
"I know what you're thinking," Dallas said softly and reached across the console, grabbing my hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
I choked out a laugh and furiously wiped at my eyes to prevent unwanted tears. "Yeah. The sniffling makes it pretty obvious."
He took his eyes off the road for a split second to flash me that handsome, loving smile. "Tali, I feel the same way, you know? If I let myself, I could break down right now over just the fact that I know you're in the same car with me. I'm as emotionally fucked up over being together again as you are. But I'm trying to keep my heart in check for your sake. You don't need to see me like that. Besides, we've both done enough waterworks over the past four years to last us a lifetime."
He had a point. I'd certainly rather grin and bear the pain and enjoy being with him versus crying my eyes out over finally getting to physically touch him again.
"I love you, Tali," he said in the sweetest, sincerest voice and laced our fingers together, pulling my arm toward him and pressing a kiss to the back of my hand.
Butterflies erupted in my stomach and I wondered for a brief moment if this was what it felt like to just be a normal couple. I wondered how different our lives and our relationship would be if neither of us were agents and we didn't have to worry about armed murderers chasing us. Could there ever be such a thing? Would it be possible for us to someday leave the world of crime and espionage behind and just be normal, regular people? I remembered when we used to talk about that – saying goodbye to our agencies and getting regular jobs, moving to some cute little house in the suburbs together, getting married... It was one of many deep conversations we'd had lying at the base of that aspen tree, daydreaming about a future together. I still wanted that future, despite all the uncertainty.
As we got closer to our destination, Dallas slowed down and carefully scanned the area for any potential hazards. The dark building I'd seen from a couple miles back came into view again once we passed a row of trees and I could see that it was a five-story red brick structure flanked by shorter buildings of the same exterior. The whole complex was framed by two rows of the usual prison fencing with razor wire atop.
"This ought to be interesting," Dallas commented when he spotted the guard shack up ahead.
The guard, armed with a rifle, emerged from his hut in anticipation of our forthcoming. He wore a look of no nonsense and stared us down as we approached.
"Get out your Spanish I.D. in case you're asked for it, and follow my lead," Dallas instructed. "I'll try to do most of the talking."
He retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and held it up to the guard when we came to a stop. The man stared at the I.D., squinting like he was trying to decide if he bought it, and then eyed Dallas and me with suspicion. I hadn't yet flashed my fake badge, still waiting to see what Dallas's plan was.
"Welche Geschäfte hast du hier?" The guard asked Dallas what business we had at the prison.
He replied in perfect German that we were government officials sent by the Bundesnachrichtendienst to investigate the disappearance of a woman who recently visited the prison. That was equally vague and believable enough, I supposed.
I caught a glimpse of Dallas's fake identification when he slipped it back into his pocket. It was a Federal Intelligence Service I.D. I briefly wished I'd thought to have Alana create a German I.D. for me, too. I likely would not be allowed access to the prison with a Spanish one if I didn't have Dallas with me. Then again, I always had been great at letting myself into places without permission.
The guard eyed us for a long time, his glare darting around the inside of the car as well. I had no doubt he'd noticed that we were both armed, and I was surprised he hadn't tried to inspect our vehicle.
"Warte einen Moment," the guard ordered us to wait and retreated back into his hut to make a phone call.
I strained to hear what he was saying, but I couldn't remember all of my German and the man was speaking so quickly, it was all jumbled together.
"He's talking to the head of security," Dallas muttered where only I could hear. "He's not sure whether or not to let us through."
"Don't the German feds have special clearance or something like that?" I frowned, continuing to watch the guard out of the corner of my eye. "If you tell him you're with the government, he can't turn you away, can he?"
He pursed his lips and shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."
Seconds later, the guard returned to Dallas's window and asked for both our I.D.'s so he could take down our information in the logbook. I hesitantly handed him mine, unsure of how he'd react to a Spanish I.D.
The man looked over my identification and glanced back at me with a strange expression, but didn't comment on the oddity. The heaviness in my chest seemed to subside when he went ahead and processed our information without further questioning.
After handing us back our I.D.'s, the gate leading into the prison opened and the guard instructed Dallas to drive forward.
"Where do you want to start?" I asked Dallas as he was pulling into a parking spot.
"I want to talk to the prisoner Agent Lindsey was visiting and find out why."